


What Kind of Idiot Would Make a Robot You Can't Fuck?

by smokeopossum



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, these hands are only capable of creating filth, this is smut im sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-03
Updated: 2016-10-03
Packaged: 2018-08-19 06:43:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8194150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smokeopossum/pseuds/smokeopossum
Summary: All Fareeha has to do is tilt her head, blank-faced, and just look at Satya to make her squirm.
It makes her feel powerful. More than that, it makes her feel attractive in her new body.
-kink meme fill-





	

**Author's Note:**

> wicked self-indulgent fill for [this prompt](https://overwatch-kink.dreamwidth.org/679.html?thread=761767#cmt761767) on the kink meme & another "it's an AU don't look too hard at it" fic  
> reference/inspirational photo album [here](https://www.dropbox.com/sh/m9lmv2xahphxye3/AADef6wqK3nSQNh22SEPL7uwa?dl=0) for all your thirsty robo-fucker needs  
> shoutout to my girls google dot com and miss wikipedia

The incident was horrific.

Noble Fareeha. Brave Fareeha. Stubborn, selfless, sacrificing Fareeha.

If it meant saving lives, of course she would leap onto a fragmentation grenade. Even experimental ones. Even maliciously designed ones tossed into busy streets for the chaos. Maybe even especially then.

The carnage had been sickening, but no one else was hurt.

Angela was first on the scene, ashen-faced but determined; there was enough left of her to save, there was still some part of her clinging desperately to life. She could bring people back from the dead. She could rebuild the shattered, remake the missing, recycle the unsalvageable.

She had done it before. She could do it again.

With help now, too. More resources, better technology, an idea of what she's doing, and a beautiful hard-light engineer with no equal in her field.

Satya is quiet and brilliant, and doesn't flinch when Angela enters her office with materials in hand and plans on data drive, only making a few suggestions in design and function before launching into work.

It's hard to operate on someone you love. It's easier when you're operating with someone you love too, someone with steady hands when yours are not, with an even voice when yours breaks, with reassuring fact to calm your racing mind.

They saved Fareeha.

She's more synthetic material than organic now - skeletal system entirely replaced, muscles of steel under dark, capacitive skin, bright cybernetic eyes that rarely blink - but it's still Fareeha.

They made sure to recreate her eye of Horus tattoo, lovingly curled along the plates of her face. (She is, and always will be, one who protects.)

They made sure to recreate everything about her they possibly could, and reimagine what they couldn't. Her face is familiar, the same strong jaw (despite the silver metal) and sharp brows (despite the panel of white between them, the cracks running along her skin). Her hair is a sleek helmet, never frizzed or out of place nor glinting with familiar golden ornaments, but glowing with orange light at the ends instead. They kept her soft where they could - chest and belly and hips and thighs and posterior covered in dark synthetic skin and cords of carbon fiber, firm and supple and strong, just as it was _before_ \- and left gleaming, exposed metal where they couldn't.

Satya mentioned she liked the contrast while they were still designing. Angela was inclined to agree.

When Fareeha woke, and had dealt with the horror of waking in an alien body with little memory of having gotten there, she also agreed.

Fareeha doesn't wrestle with her reincarnation like Genji had. She had accepted the loss of life or limb as a worthy price for saving others, and to find herself still alive was a gift. To find herself stronger, more durable, _better,_ was a gift.

Perhaps the physical dysphoria she had quietly admitted to both of them before played a part in her acceptance.

Physically, she doesn't 'feel' in the same way anymore - extreme temperatures are less intolerable now, and she can only feel pressure along the interlocking plates of her false skin, but the exposed metal of her limbs tingles with responsive sensation she hasn't felt since she first lost her arms in the Egyptian military. She can _feel_ her metal fingers when they clink into a fist, her toes when she clenches them. Satya is a creative wonder.

For battle, they had coordinated with Torbjorn to create a Raptora-inspired power armor that would serve as both a protective outer layer and physical enhancement. It's similar to the swapping of prosthesis she dealt with before, combined with the patient ritual of putting on her armor. Oftentimes Fareeha leaves it on out of ease, and maybe just a little bit for comfort.

She can see, hear, and smell much better than ever, digestion is blessedly only a Sometimes thing, and she can actually keep up with Zaryanova in the gym now.

She even has a wifi hotspot.

There are a lot of positives to her current situation. A lot of things to be thankful for, to feel blessed by.

Only recently has she been made aware of yet another.

Satya expresses more than a passing interest in Fareeha's new aesthetic - she's not one to be bold with her hands, but Fareeha has noticed the lingering looks she gives the sleek lines of her body, the near reverent way her fingers sometimes brush against her metal jaw late at night, the muted fluster when she's caught staring by unblinking golden eyes.

All Fareeha has to do is tilt her head, blank-faced, and just _look_ at Satya to make her squirm.

It makes her feel powerful. More than that, it makes her feel attractive in her new body.

"You enjoy my mechanical aspects," Fareeha says bluntly one evening, settling with a heavy clunk next to where Satya sits at her work table. Blueprints sit in neat stacks along the length of it, a prototype model of sentry turret floating gently in front of her. Satya waves the construct away, cautiously eyeing Fareeha.

"You are beautifully designed. Of course I find you appealing," she coolly responds.

Fareeha ignores her instinct to smile, face instead schooled into a mask of indifference. She turns her head to look at Satya fully, eyes glowing. Her body is otherwise still, silent but for the gentle hum of her internal fans, and just looks. And waits.

Satya clenches her jaw and squirms, thighs pressing together during the brief silence, and lets her eyes pass along the sharp contours of Fareeha's face and down her heavy, metal body. Her armor is off, displaying the dark carbon nano-muscle underneath and how it interlocks with the clean white metal of her limbs.

"… Very appealing. I--"

Her possible explanation is interrupted by the opening of the door, Torbjörn loudly making his presence known as he clanks past with a pile of scrap in his arms. Fareeha doesn't move but Satya bolts upright as if caught doing something shameful, lips pressed into a thin line and eyes looking everywhere but at her cybernetic lover.

"If you will excuse me," Satya huffs, and then she's gone, out the door before it even had time to close behind the Swedish man. Only then does Fareeha allow herself a smile, shortly standing up to leave the engineering department with a wave to Torbjörn.

 

* * *

 

It had been months after Fareeha was cleared from physical rehabilitation when the topic of sex came up between her and her lovers. Sure, Angela had mentioned her new genitals and the abstract _idea_ of possible sex when she first woke, but Fareeha was still getting used to having a strange body entirely, and the idea of becoming intimate with it was at first repulsive.

As her comfort grew, desire began to spark from time to time. It was difficult to recognize at first, previously leaving her puzzled by the warmth of her chassis and the heavy whirring of her fans as she watched Zaryanova deadlift an absurd amount of weight in the gym one morning - Mei had chosen to sleep in for once, leaving her with only an audience of one, but an audience is an audience and Zarya loves to give a show.

The sight of her muscles bulging as she flashed a feral grin to Fareeha led to a curious warmth in her facial plates, the golden light bridging metal and skin glowing brighter, teasingly pointed out by the large woman.

"Is easier to tell when you are flustered, now," Aleks had said, still grinning as she cupped her face with a beefy hand. The weights laid forgotten in their stand once more, her workout over. "Unless the light fluctuation is actually malfunction."

Her thumb brushed against Fareeha's cool lower lip, eyes smoldering as they parted for her. It pressed in to slip between perfect teeth and graze a slick metal tongue.

"You may be part robot," she continued, "but inside, you are all woman."

Her grin grew wider.

"And is good to be inside woman, da?"

Her thumb dragged against Fareeha's metal lip as it pulled out, electric tingles left in its wake. Fareeha's chest had prickled, her fans picking up in response, and she was left gaping vacantly after Zarya as she swaggered to the locker room.

When she realized the warmth had traveled lower, settling in a steady throb between her legs, she laughed, alone in the gym. She laughed and took a few hours to relearn her body in the quarters she shares with Angela, who slipped in later to find her nude and quite pleased with herself. Angela was kind enough not to tease, simply pressing a kiss to her forehead and murmuring, "We did good work, ja?," as she climbed into bed with her.

Later, when Angela offhandedly reminded her that her genitals are reconfigurable, she spent a few more hours testing them out. With help.

Ejaculation is still a bit of a novel experience for her, but she thinks she likes it.

 

* * *

 

The next time she catches Satya alone, it's after another successful mission.

Fareeha is imposing in her battle armor, bulky and strong but no less graceful, and still as perceptive as ever even through the pink hue of her helmet’s HUD. Perceptive enough to catch the way Satya bit her lip when she reported for pre-mission briefing, eyes appreciatively flitting along the geometric plates of armor covering her body. It's something that she replays in her mind throughout the mission and it inspires her to seek out Satya after their return.

She's still in full armor when she corners the architect in the emptying hangar, towering over her with a neutral expression, helmet off and at her side. Satya doesn't meet her eyes, pretending to fuss with her partially damaged teleporter. 

"Satya."

"Yes?"

"Look at me."

There's a pause as Satya goes rigid before turning to Fareeha. Dark eyes reflexively sweep along her hulking frame. Fareeha pushes down the smirk threatening to rise.

Satya clears her throat after a moment, pursing her lips and arching a brow expectantly, waiting for an explanation. She isn't given one. Instead Fareeha steps into her personal space, backing her against the wall, and rests a heavy gauntlet on her shoulder.

Satya swallows harshly, eyeing the hand with wide eyes, and Fareeha feels desire rush through her.

"You like this," Fareeha states, voice cool, eyes burning into hers. The hand slowly glides up her neck, metal fingers brushing along her nape, thumb tracing her jaw. Satya takes an unsteady breath. So close, Fareeha smells of fuel and ozone. It makes her head swim.

"The inorganic aspects of your body are very appealing," Satya admits quietly. A hesitant hand, the prosthetic one, reaches up to settle on Fareeha's jutting breastplate. Fareeha presses closer to her, her bulk eclipsing Satya almost entirely, metal plates cool where they meet her flushed dark skin.

Satya is so small in comparison. So delicate. So human.

"Do you want me?," Fareeha asks, expressionless. Another shiver runs through Satya, head craning up to meet glowing golden eyes.

"Yes," comes the quiet answer.

"Like this?"

"Yes."

There's silence for a moment. Fareeha enjoys the way Satya's shoulders rise and fall with her tense breaths. Satya enjoys the absolute stillness of Fareeha's frame in kind.

"I will wait in your room," Fareeha finally murmurs. "And I will show you what my body is capable of."

Satya could say that she knows already. She could say she helped design it, that she has more intimate knowledge of Fareeha's inner workings than she ever could. That to think otherwise is an insult to her skill.

"Very well," she whispers instead. She breathes in sharply as Fareeha's metal thumb briefly presses at her throat, strong and cool, feeling the rapid race of her heart. In a second it's gone, Fareeha stepping back and leaving Satya in the silent hangar.

She feels warm and uncomfortable in Fareeha's absence.

It makes her hurry to meet back up with her.

 

* * *

 

Satya prefers her own space, arranged how she likes it, clean and simple and orderly. None of them have ever resented her for this, nor for appearing in their doorways some nights with a desperate need for their weight and warmth and safety around her.

Physical affection is uncommon from her and sexual advances less so, but prurient interest is still there. She’s quiet in the expression of her attraction, preferring to silently admire or murmur flirtations, occasionally creating hard-light tokens of affection. Nobody had been expecting it when she had presented Lena with a clever new toy after hearing her complain about the chafing straps of her old one.

Satya had only requested to watch it in action. Lena and Aleksandra were very obliging.

She often requests to simply watch. The offer to join is always extended, rarely taken up on.

As the door hisses open and reveals Fareeha standing by her bed, the sharp, alien mask of her helmet glaring down at her, Satya reflects on how quickly she had accepted the offer this time. How quickly she might accept again.

She steps forward and relaxes at the reassuring sound of her door clicking shut behind her.

It’s just the two of them, eyes meeting the inscrutable yellow slits of the cybernetic statue before her.

“Greetings,” Satya hears her dry mouth say, lips twisted into a tentative smile as she walks forward.

“Greetings,” a familiar mechanized voice echoes, pointed helmet tilting to follow her.

Satya pauses in front of Fareeha, eyes darting to the blank wall to their side before returning to her gaze. She feels her face grow warm in the ensuing silence between them, almost ready to vocalize her request when Fareeha begins to move.

Strong metal hands encircle her waist. Satya feels the thick joints of her fingers through her dress, cool against warmed flesh, and barely readies herself for the shift in space that suddenly occurs, Fareeha handling her as easily as a doll. She’s lifted up briefly, level with Fareeha and close enough to examine the flickering reflection of the HUD in her helmet’s eyes, before being lowered and pinned against the wall, smooth gauntlets finding Satya’s wrists and bringing them up in a firm grasp as she steps close.

The motion is effortless.

The heavy hands might as well be pressing against her chest for all her current difficulties with breathing.

Satya manages, even with the metal of Fareeha’s armor pressing into her now, a thickly plated leg shifting between her own and forcing a whimper from her. Her wrists are gathered in one strong hand, held against the wall, while the other trails back down her body, dragging down her side to squeeze at her hip. It’s just a little rough, the strong fingers digging in and coaxing Satya’s hips to rock forward against her armor.

She lets out a soft sigh and takes over the motion, grinding herself down along the rough plating as her eyes slip shut. Fareeha’s hand releases her hip to lift the front of her dress away, leaving only the stretchy material of her shorts below to separate her from the smooth armor, and although it is definitely an improvement, Satya can already tell it won’t be enough. She wants to feel more.

A cold pressure at her lips breaks her from her thoughts, eyes snapping open.

Fareeha holds an armored finger to her lips, faceless mask still tilted down at her, expectant.

She knows Fareeha won’t be able to feel the tremor of her lips as they part, not in her armor like this. She won’t be able to feel the hot tongue eagerly swirling around the digit. She can’t feel how forceful she might be as it pushes deeper into her mouth, cool rigidity digging into Satya’s soft palate, making her shiver as the finger creeps down her tongue, the taste of metal heavy in her mouth. Her cheeks hollow as she sucks her deeper, the only indication she’s affecting Fareeha with her display in the brief squeeze around her wrists.

When Fareeha has enough of her teasing, she pulls her hand away, finger slick and shining as Satya licks her lips at its departure. She doesn’t get to admire her results for long, gasping as it falls to her hips and pulls down her shorts in a fluid, quick movement. They only slip to her thighs with Fareeha’s leg still between them, but it’s enough. Her underwear is simple and lace and torn off in an instant, revealing curly dark hair glistening with moisture.

The spit-slick finger lines up at her entrance, pressing into her in a heartbeat, thick and cold and hard against her tender insides. Satya lets out a quiet noise at the sudden, welcome intrusion, sighing as it calms the ache she had felt since the briefing that morning. Her hands squeeze into loose fists as the finger inside her moves, pushing and probing and scraping against tight walls, urging her climax closer with every flex and crook.

She struggles to keep her eyes open, grinding against Fareeha’s hand with parted lips, panting as she looks up into the glowing screens of the eyes of her helmet. It’s suddenly not enough, not when she wants to feel the burn of Fareeha’s eyes on her and the shape of her lips against hers.

“Take the helmet off,” Satya orders, in charge despite her current position. Fareeha releases her wrists at once, reaching to the side of her helmet with her now free hand to press at its latch, still pumping her finger into Satya. She presses the other shortly after and grabs her helmet by a horn, tugging it up and off, and tosses it onto the bed.

Dismay flickers across Satya’s features at the sight, but it can easily be rearranged. Later. Fareeha hasn’t stopped fingering her, and now that she can _see_ those cold golden eyes staring blankly down at her, she suddenly feels much closer to her climax.

With her hands released, they’re free to grasp tightly at bulky silver pauldrons, tugging Fareeha closer. Her shoulders are still and cold under her hands, no rapid rise and fall from heaving breaths like her own. Satya gulps down air and trails a finger of flesh along Fareeha’s neck, letting it wander up to the coolness of her metal jaw until it’s joined by the rest of her fingers and she’s weakly petting along Fareeha’s expressionless faceplates, still riding her armored hand.

She had lost track of Fareeha’s free hand, squeaking in surprise when it grabs at her thigh and lifts, urging her to hook her leg around her waist and slot neatly into the space created by her jutting leg armor. Satya is flexible enough for it, and the slight change in angle works for her in a big way.

Her shorts ride up, trapping Fareeha’s gauntlet between her legs, finger still digging against her straining walls. Fareeha presses closer to her, surrounding her, letting the weight of her body press into Satya, the hum of her internal workings muted but felt. She feels so vulnerable like this, crushed against her wall with still metal surrounding her, so soft and human.

The rocking of Satya’s hips grows faster and faster, thick armored finger buried inside her and twitching as she squeezes around it, mashing her clit against a cool metal palm with every desperate thrust, staring right into unblinking glowing eyes until she can’t any longer, until she has to tear her gaze away, eyes shutting tight, and breaks apart beneath Fareeha with a long, breathless cry.

She hears the muffled whir of Fareeha’s fans as she comes, hips jerking sharply, clit throbbing in response. A cool plated thumb grazes against it, soothing and enticing all at once, gently petting as Satya twitches and sobs through her climax.

Finally exhausted, Satya slumps against the wall in her lover’s embrace, still cupping Fareeha’s face but otherwise limp in her arms, and lets her eyes flutter open.

Fareeha is giving her a shy smile now, and as much as she appreciated the blank detachment of earlier, the expression is comforting. Satya finds herself smiling back as she tenderly strokes her jaw.

“Was that alright?,” Fareeha asks, shifting to press a kiss to her fingers.

“Excellent,” Satya breathes in response, wincing softly as Fareeha pulls free from her. Taking something so thick so suddenly, despite the ample lubrication, left her a touch sore, not that Satya minds in the least. The ache radiates pleasantly, a welcome reminder.

Her eyes drag along Fareeha’s armored form lazily.

“Would you like to slip into something more comfortable and continue?” Satya gestures to the bed, grimacing at the helmet marring her otherwise perfect sheets, and tugs her shorts down entirely to place properly in her hamper. Fareeha’s smile widens, pleasantly surprised by the offer and tickled by the brief irritation at the disorder.

“I would love to.”

Disengaging her armor is no small task, but it’s made much easier with an extra set of hands well-versed in its design. Satya fluidly presses the hidden tabs and locks, helping Fareeha lift the heavy plating from her shoulders first. She’s about to place it on the floor when Satya clicks her tongue and gracefully swings her arms, a hard-light armor stand forming before their eyes.

“Ah, thanks,” Fareeha says sheepishly, carefully setting down her armor. The rest of the pieces follow swiftly, legs and wings and chest relieved one by one, until Fareeha is stripped down to synthetic skin and muscle next to her. She looks smaller without her protective coverings, softer without the jagged angles. Satya runs her hands over her smooth chest even as Fareeha reaches for her helmet, marveling quietly at the flex and shift of her muscles.

“Thank you,” she suddenly says, hands slipping down to rest at firm hips. “For... Indulging me.”

“It is my pleasure,” Fareeha sincerely replies with a grin, setting the helmet in its place and turning back to Satya. Cool white hands rest at her shoulders, giving them a squeeze as cybernetic eyes drag down her body.

“Would you like to slip into something more comfortable, ya hayati?” Fareeha teasingly echoes to an eyeroll. Satya’s hands quickly reach for the fasteners at her chest while Fareeha’s gravitate to the hidden zipper, the both of them making short work of her dress.

It joins the shorts in the hamper, leaving Satya in just her stockings. It’s a sight Fareeha can certainly appreciate.

The ruined underwear discarded earlier is tossed in the trash.

Fareeha pulls her close with an arm around her waist, both of them thankful to be rid of the distance caused by her armor. It is nice to touch, to feel Fareeha’s cooler skin against her own. In time it will warm, but as it is now, chilly and lifeless, there lies an appeal in the distinctly unnatural feeling.

It reminds Satya of Amélie, now that she thinks about it.

Thoughts of her other lovers flee her mind as Fareeha leans down to kiss her, shiny metal and soft synthetic lips pressing carefully against her own, waiting for a reaction. Satya cups her neck and leans in, moving her lips softly against Fareeha’s, enjoying the sleek metal against her mouth. She barely notices Fareeha inching her backwards towards the bed until she feels the mattress dip underneath her and Fareeha’s body pressing her down.

Satya scoots back to get comfortable, pulling Fareeha on top of her with a relaxed grin as their lips briefly part. Her solid weight is comforting, even if she attempts to keep most of it off of Satya.

“Priyamaina, please,” Satya murmurs, legs hugging either side of Fareeha’s plated hips. “Touch me.”

“I thought I already was,” Fareeha teases, before meeting Satya’s lips once more, the hand not holding herself up beginning to wander along her body. Cool fingers glide down her neck to her chest, squeezing a firm breast to a pleased noise from Satya. Fareeha feels the nipple tighten and stiffen under her palm, responding with a groan of her own as she kneads the soft flesh.

Satya lets out another soft noise from her throat as Fareeha’s thigh presses between her legs, suddenly made aware of the nearly embarrassing wetness there. Fareeha doesn’t have a problem with it, moaning against her lips as she grinds into Satya and smears it further along her skin.

She knows Satya isn’t usually a fan of messes. Perhaps she can make a small exception in this case.

The moan Satya lets out in response is promising.

“That’s it, ya hayati,” Fareeha croons when Satya’s head tosses to the side, hips sharply jerking against the smooth skin plating of her thigh. Her lips brush against her neck and drag up to her ear, the touch of cool metal against warm, vulnerable skin sending chills through Satya. “Tell me what you need.”

“More,” Satya huffs out, desperate to close the remaining distance between them, hands pulling Fareeha down by the shoulders. “Closer,” as their chests crush against each other, slickness painting Fareeha’s thigh with every needy twitch of Satya’s hips.

“Do you want me to ‘reconfigure’?,” Fareeha cautiously asks.

“Unnecessary,” Satya breathes in response. “Just keep-- keep doing this. Hold me.”

The harsh metal of Fareeha’s musculature presses in on her, strong hands grasping at her wrists and pinning them down. Satya’s hips buck in response, a weak moan escaping as Fareeha purposely grinds down against her.

“Is this enough?,” comes Fareeha’s next hushed, awed question, eyes wide as she watches Satya tremble beneath her so easily.

“Yes,” comes the quick response, spiraling into a soft, repeated chant as the rocking of their hips continues, grows faster. Fareeha feels curious fingers probe the vents and slots along her back, dig into the thick cables of muscle of her shoulders, scratch at the smooth plating along her spine. Heat pumps from her in waves, internal fans humming as they kick into higher gear; her body is vibrating with the effort, and if it helps tip Satya over the edge to feel the powerful thrum right against her sex, neither of them seem to mind.

She gasps, eyes snapping open and hips forcefully rutting down against Fareeha in savage, desperate need before she freezes, back arching and mouth open in a silent wail. Fareeha is happy to take over, rocking against her with firm, even thrusts, grinning at the strained Telugu spilling from Satya as she finds her release against her thigh.

Her motions ease to a stop as Satya catches her breath below her, limp and exhausted and endearingly sweaty. Fareeha brushes an errant strand of hair from her face for her as she gathers her composure, finally calm after the last of the aftershocks.

Rich dark eyes flutter open to meet Fareeha’s, a sated smile curling Satya’s lips. The clean, white metal of her prosthetic hand brushes against Fareeha’s cheek, thumb reverently tracing the udjat she had painstakingly recreated.

The silence between them, comfortable and light, is only broken after a moment by a quiet chuckle from Satya. At Fareeha’s questioning look, her smile widens.

“You are lovely. I am grateful to be here, with you.” She leans up to press her lips to Fareeha’s in a short, sweet kiss. “Thank you. Again.”

Fareeha follows her lips back down for another kiss, loving and lingering, hoping to pour the feelings she struggles to verbalize into it; gratitude, love, admiration, trust. When she pulls away, Satya is breathless, clinging to her tightly.

“Will you stay with me tonight?,” she quietly asks.

“Of course.”

Fareeha shifts to her side, no longer weighing down on Satya, and pulls her back into her arms, carefully slipping the sheets over them both. With a brief wave of her hand, Satya dims the lights until she’s illuminated only by Fareeha’s soft golden glow.

Despite the initial embarrassment, this had worked out well. For both of them. She presses a kiss to Fareeha’s collar and nuzzles into her embrace, comforted by metal fingers running through her hair, and reflects on her thought from earlier as she drifts off.

It’s not in her nature to boldly request something like this, but if Fareeha is kind enough to ask...

Well, there ARE still features she has yet to personally fully explore.

**Author's Note:**

> possum - Today at 7:50 PM  
> now i need to figure out a title  
> [...]  
> bunny - Today at 8:03 PM  
> What Kind of Idiot Makes a Robot You Can't Fuck  
> possum - Today at 8:03 PM  
> GOD  
> bunny - Today at 8:03 PM  
> I fucking dare you  
> possum - Today at 8:04 PM  
> fuck you you think i won't?  
> that's it that's the title  
> bunny - Today at 8:04 PM  
> I WAS AT LEAST 50% JOKING


End file.
